Life Goals at 46

I’m 46 now—as of yesterday. I’m still trying to figure out how I was halfway to 90 last year and this year I’m halfway to 92, but only one year has passed. Sometimes I think I’m getting dumber. 

After a sleepless night owed to coffee-too-confidently-consumed-after-8pm like a younger person might do, I am hearing my son’s voice in my head. A new year, a new you. And I’m wondering, is that what I’m going for?

Mostly, my thoughts are filled with wonderment at the lavishness of the love of the people in my life over the last several days. It started with a surprise party given by my grief support group—a feast and gifts for days. I thought it was just another Monday with people I love and admire, a time for them and about them. But they had thoughts of their own. About me.

Isn’t it touching just to know someone thinks about you? 

Receiving 36 thoughts embodied in 36 persons at one time is simply overwhelming. In a good way, of course. When I was telling my sister about it, she said “I need a grief group!” I laughed. I think everyone does, really. 

To my utter amazement and delight, I was off on my birthday and my boys were all free and up for a float down the Guadalupe, as was my long-time friend, Sylvia.

Our oldest moved out last week and our middle son will be two months into Marine Corps boot camp this time next year, so having them say yes to a whole day with me on my day was everything. Five hours of driving for an hour-and-a-half on the water is a lot of driving for a little bit of floating, but well worth it to me. And them, at least this time.

We came home to gifts on the front porch, gifts dropped by later, a phone full of messages to be returned, steaks cooked to perfection by my hardworking husband, and chocolate cake made by my mother-in-law. You know, to go with the pistachio cake and key lime pie from Monday. Love is good leftover, especially with a little whipped cream on top.  

This morning’s quiet time found me in the book of Mark. Chapter 8, verse 37. For what can a man give in return for his life?

That question on this day of overwhelming gratitude begs an answer. How can one repay such a gift?! It feels too big even to address. But a blank mind hardly seems right, either.

An image from last Sunday’s worship comes to mind. A little girl, maybe 4 or 5 years old, came in mouth-hanging-open-asleep in her mother’s arms. After some time, she awoke, only to be passed to her older brother. Another brother seemed to be eagerly awaiting his turn when his arms got tired, and Dad got the final turn and finished out the service.

I found myself thinking, her feet never touched the floor! 

I don’t know who enjoyed the holding more, the little girl or each family member as they took their turn. But for me, they answer the giant question Jesus poses in the book of Mark. 

Love and be loved. 

That’s what we give in return for our life. 

I work with so many people who grieve the loss of their independence. To become dependent on others is one of the things we fear most in our ultra-independent culture. And we are poorer because of it. If we all want to give love and serve, but no one wants to receive it, the system breaks down. The flow and power of love is stunted.

Sometimes, our job is simply to receive what others want to give, as humbling as it may be! And it is so very humbling. Feelings of unworthiness ooze out of the cracks in our being with thoughts of if-you-only-knew-who-I-really-am and you’re-such-a-better-person-than-me. . . 

Please excuse my French, but that is crap. None of us are fooling everybody. There might be some truth to the beauty and goodness they see in you. (Sorry, it is easier for me to pretend I am talking to you when I am talking to myself.)

So, I am receiving it! Yes, it is more comfortable to be on the giving end. A little power differential. 

To date, the best compliment I have ever heard was from talking with a son about his recently deceased mother. He said. . . 

“She had an infinite capacity to love.”

I didn’t get to meet his Mom, but I suspect she was able to receive the love he gave her too. However it was, she gave me my own life goal that day. As I consider “A new year, a new you” I resolve to grow my capacity to love and graciously receive what is offered in return. And meet that woman one day.

Thank you all for your love, in all of the ways you share it. May you have days when your feet never touch the floor because there is a line of people waiting to hold you. Amen.